Insurmountable
by Lookingkindofdumb
Summary: Firefly AU. "Because I am a rabid animal." Loki's voice goes silky, persuasive. Bruce half shrugs, he isn't wrong. "Only some of the time." Bruce says lightly. # It takes Thor several months to realise that there is no going back. The Loki he knew, the wild, impossible, brat of a little brother was gone and in his place stood a shell.


Warnings: Associated warnings with the Firefly universe, human experimentation hinted at. Also, Loki. Loki stabs people. (So, just like canon then.)

#

Thor expects it for months. Waits at night, with a knife against his throat, for the final slash down.

So when it comes what is most surprising is the shock he feels at the searing wound, the flesh of his shoulder carved almost to the bone. Or is it the wound at his gut? A stab and a slice and Thor the butchers meat on the slab.

"Do not hurt him!" He calls as they restrain Loki. As Bruce presses a needle against his neck, as Steve holds his long, lean, thrashing form.

"He stabbed you." Tony says flatly, standing at Thor's side, ready to leap into action should it be needed.

Loki, confined in Steve's arms, thrashes wildly for a moment before stilling. He stares at the gash, eyes fixed on the blood that gleams all too brightly.

"Admiring your handiwork?" Clint asks snidely.

"Red. It runs red. Had to check, had to see." Loki murmurs, blinking lazily, slumping as the drug kicks in.

"Get him to the infirmary." Bruce gestures to where Thor sits in the chair he had been enjoying his dinner in.

"Where do I stash Loki?" Clint asks, slinging Loki's limp arm around his shoulder.

"Lock him in his quarters." Steve orders.

"Bring him to the infirmary." Thor counters, getting to his feet and ignoring the helping arm Natasha offers.

"You sure?" Clint asks seriously. Thor just nods and leads the way, trying not to drip blood on the walkway.

"He isn't getting better, if anything he's getting worse." Tony says, quietly. Thor pretends not to hear.

#

"His vitals look to be okay." Bruce says, stepping away from the form on the bed and folding down his glasses.

" _He_ is lying here." The figure says irritably, sitting up abruptly.

"Uh, it might be best not to-"

Loki turns pale and goes very still.

"-move for a few minutes." Bruce finishes, stepping back a little further, wary of any outbursts.

"What did you dose me with this time?" The question is sharp, bitter. Bruce smiles carefully, shoulders tucking down into even less of a target.

"A sedative. Smaller dose, a few tweaks here and there to remove most of the side effects." He answers evasively, deliberately.

Loki smiles humourlessly, his eyes flat and though the colour is of vibrant living things, the green always looks dead to Bruce. Or, perhaps filled with so vast a wealth of emotions that they only appear to lack those same emotions, like white containing the entire colour spectrum. Loki can be unnerving, always, sometimes on purpose but more often not. Bruce wonders if he was different before (silly question, of course he was) but he still doesn't think that Loki was ever a child with Thor's carefree demeanour. Talk about night a day, Tony says, out of earshot, a casual observation that is simplistic and vast, like most of what Tony says and means.

"Because I am a rabid animal." Loki's voice goes silky, persuasive. Bruce half shrugs, he isn't wrong. When Loki has his...episodes he is nigh on unstoppable. The entire crew carry around a shot of sedatives now, just in case.

"Only some of the time." Bruce says lightly. He knows what it means to come around to untold devastation and no memory of having caused it. Loki does not need platitudes, would scorn them if offered. This isn't a ship for coddling.

The captain shifts, ready to get back to work now the situation has been contained. He probably stayed for Bruce, just in case the sedative didn't calm Loki down, didn't bring him back to reality. It was unnecessary. Very Steve.

"Glad to see you back with us." Steve claps Loki on the shoulder, a brief touch and still Loki looks caught. Steve nods at Bruce, a clipped head movement that reminds him that once upon a time Steve was a soldier, before he leaves the medical bay.

Bruce tidy's away the equipment, leaving it packed away but within easy access should he need it fast.

"It would have been easier for you to have dumped me on some barren moon somewhere in the depths of space." Loki says, quietly, an observation. Bruce swallows and places down the small penlight in his hands. Most of the crew only fear Loki when he is lost to them, Bruce fears him when he goes contemplative for there is nothing more dangerous than thinking. Why else would regimes crush down independent thought so religiously?

"Perhaps." Bruce admits, they wouldn't have to hide so much from the alliance if not for Thor and Loki but they weren't exactly going to invite alliance members over for a polite conversation with tea and cake either.

Loki sits up, more carefully than before, testing his bodies response. He flexes his toes, bare and pasty in the unforgiving light. Nothing about him is vulnerable and Bruce isn't stupid enough to assume so from a small matter of not being fully dressed.

"But I don't think that was an option." Bruce says, remembering the taste of bile in the back of his throat as Thor explained why he had brought his brother in a cryotank onto the America. Remembering how Loki, a bag of bones with huge eyes, sat shaking and shaking even when Thor gathered him close.

Thor is charismatic, likeable and fundamentally good. Loki is not any of these things (although Bruce is pretty sure he could charm them all with effortless ease if he cared enough to). Some days Bruce fantasises about shoving him out of the airlock.

Still, handing him over to the alliance? A big no in Bruce's book and apparently most of the crews too.

"Of course not." Loki scoffs and Bruce is pretty sure Loki thinks them all sentimental fools. It's one of the nicer things Bruce has been accused of.

"Aren't you going to wait for Thor to come back?" Bruce asks as Loki slowly gets to his feet, keeping a steady hand on the side. Loki's mouth pinches.

"No."

Bruce lets the subject drop, Thor reacts to these...episodes with deep concern, guilt and overriding protectiveness. Loki does not take well to it.

"Just-keep off your feet for a bit." He cautions. Loki shoots him a wholly unconvincing smile and steps lightly away, to his sleeping quarters Bruce hopes.

#

Thor was not made to live in a ship that is less than a quarter the size of the palace he grew up in. Idleness does not suit him and while the America sees more than its fair share of action there are times when living aboard seems interminably stifling. His brother, who always sought freedom like it would run out (perhaps there is a touch of the seer about his brother, it would explain much) seems more or less content poking about the small ship, finding all the nooks and crannies that make the ship excellent for smuggling and devouring information from the Starkpad Tony had gifted him.

Thor is action and its lack makes him restless.

"Settle down before you irritate me to death." Loki says, softly, a smile about his lips and a knife in his hands. Thor takes another deliberate step in the path he is pacing. "Mayhap I was not clear enough, it would be _your_ death, not mine." The knife twirls, catching the light briefly. A promise.

"There is naught to do on this tub but pace, so pace I shall until we come into more interesting times." Thor informs him, with a superior look. They are brothers, needling is a form of affection.

"There is naught to do if you do not use what little imagination you possess to _think_ of something." Loki rolls his eyes, going back to the internet which apparently is far more enthralling than Thor. Thor sighs gustily and flops down on the bed by Loki's knee. Loki says nothing. Thor glances around the room before his gaze comes back to his brother's bare feet.

His brother used to always be of impeccable dress on Asgard, nowadays, clothes seem an afterthought rather than part armour.

Thor reaches out and pokes at the foot just laying there like it is asking for a tussle. Loki does nothing. Thor pokes him again, this time in the calf.

"Are you an actual toddler?" Loki snaps, moving his leg away from Thor and glaring like Thor is everything that is wrong in the world. Thor blinks innocently.

"I think not, why do you ask?" He cannot keep from grinning; he has not the acting ability of his younger brother.

"If you insist in acting like one, I shall have to employ different methods of dealing with you." Loki says, leaning forward a particular gleam in his eyes that usually reminds people to run. Thor, who likes to rush danger head on, grins.

"I am hardly a chore to be 'dealt with'." Thor says. That's it, come closer wolf; there is some tasty meat to be had. Loki huffs in disagreement and places down his Starkpad with undue care. Thor seizes his chance and pounces.

They chase each other around the ship as though they are but half their age, tearing through rooms and grappling on the floor, laughing.

Bruised, flushed and panting, they eventually lie on the ground, catching their breath. For the first time since Thor had broken his brother out of the prison he had been forced into and he learnt how much of his brother was lost to him, he feels hope. Loki is getting better, has to be.

"Honey, the kids are wrecking the house." Tony calls out as he steps over their sprawled forms in search of coffee.

"They're your kids when they do something wrong." Steve answers, leaning in to swipe an apple and raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

"I plead the fifth." Tony says after considering. Thor just grins at his little brother as he offers a hand to get up. Loki disdains it like Thor knew he would and stands under his own power.

#

Thor tests his bonds, wrenching at the ropes with pure brute strength. Fury simmers in his veins. He hears the others shifting alongside him, the captain, mechanic and the medic. The other two crew members are planet side, bargaining the wares.

"For what foul purpose do you have us here?" He growls out, glaring at the woman who is obviously in charge, directing her men with careless flicks of the wrist and dismissive arrogance.

"Oh, don't be such a grouch." She pouts; it is mocking and just furthers his rage. "You'll get wrinkles frowning like that and it would be a shame to mar such a pretty face." She reaches out to pat his face, chidingly. Thor stiffens at the presumption but otherwise doesn't react. Loki had once bitten the hand of someone who patted his face with this much condescension but Thor doesn't have the excuse of being seven years of age. Besides, he doesn't know where her hand has been.

Thor just hopes his brother remains asleep, unaware, and doesn't stumble into the predicament.

"But to answer your question...well, I needed to repay a little favour owed to the Captain here and his crew. Nothing personal. Actually, wait, it is personal." She narrows her eyes and smiles sweetly at the Captain's glowering face. His mouth has been duct taped shut.

"What favour? Who are you?" Thor asks. His is the only mouth not taped shut, he thinks it is because he has nothing to do with this revenge scheme and has not encountered her before.

"I am hurt." She gasps theatrically and clasps a hand over her green clad bosom. "Why, am I just not memorable enough?" She directs this to Tony who responds with a raised eyebrow. "My name is Amora, Thor, and I should think you, at least, would recognise me."

Thor frowns. The name does not ring a bell.

"No? Shame, but I suppose it was a few years ago, son of Odin. I can't expect you to have a picture perfect memory."

Thor glowers harder and he notices the looks sent his way from the crew. The name of Odin is fairly well known throughout the galaxy and Thor had not yet disclosed his origins or that of his brothers to his current companions.

"Oh, the rightful prince sunk so low. You gave up everything for a pipe dream." She shakes her head, her blonde tresses escaping over her pale shoulder.

"Do not think to know my actions." Thor spits out. Rescuing Loki might have gone against orders from his father, against common sense even but he will never regret it. It was not on a pipe dream that he left his life, it was in hope.

"I do more than _think_." Amora says, looking at him like a cat might a mouse between their paws.

"You certainly do, talking seems to be a hobby of yours." A smooth, familiar voice says as a slim figure steps out from the shadows. Thor and Loki have been on this ship for three weeks now and the only words Loki has said is 'no', 'Thor' and 'brother'. To hear him speak as though things are as they were once is a balm to Thor. He even looks something of himself dressed in black trousers and a green t-shirt. (Although, his brother had been partial to the finest of suits tailored to his frame, not over large clothes of Thor's that were at best casual.)

"Well, well, the youngest prince." Amora breathes, looking delighted at the turn of events.

"In the flesh." Loki gives a shallow bow, mocking although only those who grew up with him would recognise it as such. And this is so close to the Loki that Thor remembers, not the hollow shell that screams out his night terrors, who trembles and who keeps silent. This Loki is real, present whereas the Loki of the last three weeks has been living a walking dream, not sure of events, not trusting his own eyes and painfully suspicious of everyone and everything.

Thor has woken twice to find Loki standing over him a knife at his throat. He thinks that there have been many more times that he has simply not woken up to and he doesn't even try to calculate how close to death he comes every night in sleeping in a bed next to his brother.

"So I see." Amora looks Loki over in such an overt caress of a look that Thor feels his hackles rise. "I heard you were a trouble maker, but instigating your brother to abandon his post as crown prince of Asgard, to become a fugitive? That is a deed greater than mere mischief."

Loki smiles, thin lipped. And Thor, Thor can't believe it. Can't believe that the last near month has been a lie. His brother has always had a propensity for trickery but of this Thor does not believe him capable. Loki has been a wreck in Thor's arms and if Thor cannot trust in his brother's sincerity he can at least trust in his brother's dignity preventing him from placing himself purposefully into breakdowns.

"Well, I do like to play a long game." He says, stepping just a little more into view, his hands clasped behind his back.

"So I see. I too, sometimes like to toy with certain people for a while." She says, sweetly.

"You also like the sound of your own voice. Oh, Amora, what happened to you? You had such _promise_." The words that fall from Loki's lips aren't his own. The lilt of the cadence is different, someone else's words fit oddly into his brother's mouth.

Amora blinks, her smile slipping from her face as she stares.

"But I suppose it was to be expected. After all, you were never the good girl. Never _nice_. Always willing to go that extra mile to further your own gains at the expense of someone else...what did poor unsuspecting Caradoc think of your betrayal?" Loki speaks so sweetly it is hard to believe that it is poison falling from his lips, the bitterness submerged in syrup. He steps forward again, drawing steadily closer.

"You think a few words will foil my plans? You think me some mewling chit of a child who will cry at the first insult?" Amora demands, face cold and tight, hectic spots of red at her cheeks.

"Oh, no. I think a few words, as you say, could very well shatter you to pieces, could topple empires in a second as long as they are the _right_ words. But I am not trying to shatter you, Amora, I am simply...having a _chat_." Loki's smile is all teeth.

Thor has seen Loki reduce grown men to tears with his scathing wit. Has seen him tear into people with a tongue so sharp that it took people a moment to realise they had been cut. There are people on Asgard who _fear_ Loki's tongue when he is in a black mood.

Loki digs deep into people and drags out their worst fears with the same ease Thor takes in breathing.

He tugs fruitlessly at his bonds again when Loki takes yet another step closer, his brother must not get within striking range, should flee to safety. Thor has to get free to protect him, to make sure Loki comes to no more harm.

"You think you have all the answers, little Loki, still a child and still his brother's shadow. Does it fester to be so outshone? Does it _burn_ to be inferior?" Amora turns the tables on Loki and Loki blinks, wide eyed. He moistens his lips and Thor feels his heart sink.

"Oh, it _does_. Eternally the second son, eternally outshone, the fosterling. The spare." Amora hisses, stalking over to Loki as he steps back and towering over him despite the fact that Loki is nearly a head taller than her. "Does it _burn_?"

The moment Amora leans her face close to Loki's he strikes, grabbing her in a chokehold and holding a knife to her face.

"Of course it burns." Loki murmurs, not taking his eyes off the woman in his arms, restrained only by the knife pressed uncomfortably close to her eye. "But burning is hardly the worst fate."

Loki doesn't even blink at the guns pointed his way by Amora's men.

"Now, do be a dear and tell your men to release my brother and his companions." Loki orders, once again all honey and sweetness dripping from his voice. Amora tries to stamp her foot onto Loki's and then jab him in the sensitive junction between his legs but Loki proves too swift and cunning for her, having foreseen her actions. He presses the blade with more pressure against her cheek and draws a pinpoint of blood up from the surface.

"I won't ask again."

Amora wriggles fruitlessly in Loki's grip. His brother, for all that he has not Thor's strength, has a grip like iron. As children, when they shared a bed to be free from night terrors, Thor would wake with Loki clinging to him like a limpet, impossible to pry free.

"Do as he says." Amora spits out. Reluctantly two of the men do so while the others, uncertainly, train their guns on Loki who is managing to conceal more of his body than Thor would think possible behind the smaller woman. No one risks a head shot with Amora in such close vicinity.

"Now, kindly hand over your guns to the good captain and his crew."

The moment Thor is free he doesn't even bother grabbing a weapon he simply makes his way over to Loki and Amora.

"You are well, brother?" Thor asks, checking him for signs of hurt. Loki flashes him a bewildered and irritated look before nodding impatiently.

"Quite well." Loki says as Amora and her men are escorted at gunpoint out of the America by the Captain and Tony. "Although I did want to pluck off their skin to see if their blood ran red. It would not take too much time to peel them like a grape and squeeze out the juices."

Thor blinks at this. Loki had never before been one for gore and although Asgard was a warrior culture his brother had shown little interest in the battlefield.

"Well, that's only a little morbid." Tony remarks. "But better than the silent and creepy act."

Loki smiles, it isn't reassuring.

"I am very good with knives." Such a bland statement of fact should not sound so sinister.

"Okay, now I'm kind of missing the silent Loki." Tony revises. Loki raises an eyebrow and turns to leave.

"Call me when a _competent_ person tries to restrain you." Loki says, dismissively.

"Okay, so what did we miss?" Clint asks, walking into the cargo bay just seconds after Loki has left and taking in the remains of duct tape on the floor and the assortment of guns.

Thor, uninterested in the retelling of events, follows after Loki.

#

" _Fuck_." He curses vehemently then once again with feeling.

"Thor!" Tony calls, looking around his room (well, more his room than his official bunk). Everything is _not_ where Tony left it.

"What is the matter?" Thor asks, dashing into the room, hastily pulling a shirt on. He has his gun.

"Your brother." Tony hisses, picking up a casing that is now completely shredded. It was new recently and Tony had been looking to replace the one around the core for _months_ before he got his hands on one.

"Loki?"

"Your insane brother completely dismantled the engine room!" He checks the machinery, hoping nothing too important had been sabotaged.

"Loki? But why would he do that?" Thor asks, baffled.

"I don't know. Because he's insane?" Tony says, sarcastic.

"Take care how you speak, Loki is my brother." Thor warns, face darkening.

"Yeah, and your brother tore up my engine room!"

"Have you any proof that this is Loki's doing?" Thor questions, narrowing his eyes. Tony gapes at him, momentarily lost for words.

"Look, I know you love your psychotic little brother but _he tore up my engine room_!" Tony feels like these words can't be stressed enough and he isn't usually one for shouting but this situation calls for it.

"Alright! Can it, guys. What the hell is going on?" Steve asks, darting between them and pushing them apart from where they stand nearly chest to chest getting into each other's faces.

"You are accusing my brother with baseless assumptions." Thor says, arms crossed over his chest in a way that is only just short of forbidding.

"You tell me who else would come into the engine room and tear everything apart!" Tony fumes.

"Loki always does things for a reason." Thor answers, looking around as though considering the fact that his brother may have done the damage. "And I can see no reason for him to have done this."

"I hate to break it to you, but the Loki you knew is different from the one now. Now he tears out the lights for no reason, he cackles manically for no reason and he tears up my engine room for, you guessed it, _no reason_!"

"Enough!" Steve breaks up the argument yet again, glancing around the room and taking in the mess. "Right, is anything important broken or missing?" Steve asks.

"I'll need to check her over properly before I know for sure." Tony answers, deflating. He has a lot of work ahead of him to set things to right.

"Do that." Steve says. "Thor, find your brother."

It takes a while; Tony doesn't track the time, lost in checking over the engine and patching her up. There is damage, not as much as there could have been and nothing that can't be shored up until they hit a planet. The worst damage is around the casing of the reactor core that keeps them flying.

"Is the old girl alright?" Steve asks, reaching over to squeeze Tony's shoulder. Tony sighs.

"She will be able to limp to the closest planet without too much trouble." He says, he glances around for a moment. "Look, the worst of the damage was centred around the arc reactor core. It's pretty robust but if it goes then so does everything else, engine, life support, oxygen, heating..."

Steve draws in a sharp breath. He nods, once, sharply.

"Alright. Do what you can to keep her in the air." He says, giving Tony's shoulder another squeeze, the warmth from his hand spreading. Tony gets back to work.

Tony emerges from the engine when Thor returns dragging along his reluctant younger brother. Thor is completely covered in a thick layer of dust and Loki looks like he has just woken up, hair in disarray and a red crease on his cheek.

"So, your brother seems to think you have a reason for the things you do. He seems to place a great deal of faith in you. So, care to tell me why my engine room is decimated?" Steve asks, blue eyes fixed and intent.

Most people seem to forget it when they talk to Steve, seem to forget that yeah, he might be a _good_ guy but that doesn't mean he is a _nice_ one. Steve is hard truths, an incorruptible sense of fair play and above all a soldier. He is grit and doing what has to be done. There is nothing _nice_ at the core of him. It is one of the things Tony appreciates.

"If I wanted to decimate your engine room I would have done so." Loki says, a quicksilver grin flashing.

Tony likes Loki. He likes Thor's psychotic little brother who occasionally flies off the deep end and is more macabre than anyone he has met. Likes his razor wit and bone deep sarcasm. What he doesn't like is people tearing apart his engine room.

"You think this is funny." It is a statement of fact. "Tearing apart the engine room is dangerous, for everyone. For you, the crew, _your brother_." Steve stresses.

"Quite so, did it take you long to work that out?" Loki asks lightly, prodding at the bees nest just because he wants to see what chaos it brings. Steve waits because he can be very patient. Usually when it is most aggravating for Tony.

"Taking apart the engine room would bring us all before our makers. Which is why I didn't do it."

"Truly brother, you did not cause this mess?" Thor asks hopefully. Loki shoots him a look and wow, burn. No one can pull off a 'how stupid are you' look like Loki. It beats _Pepper's_.

"So why did you mess up the engine room?" Tony asks because he can read between the lines. Loki didn't sabotage them with the attempt at redecorating.

"The blue." He answers simply, like he can't believe they just don't understand.

"The blue?" Steve repeats sceptically.

"The reactor?" Tony guesses, because it is the only blue thing in the room.

"Arc reactor core, palladium. Not the one built from scraps in the dark while your heart was burnt from outside in. Not the poison, not anymore. Blue. Always blue." Loki murmurs, eyes caught by the subtle glow.

Tony's breath catches, because Loki _should not know that_.

"So you tore up the room because you liked the colour?" Steve breaks in with a frown. Loki rolls his eyes and the moment is gone. Tony relaxes minutely.

"The blue was caged; it needed to be set free so that the truth could soar again. It was _caged_." There is a fervent glow to Loki's face that is peculiarly creepy.

"Okay, I got nothing." Tony says into the silence, after a moment of trying to figure out what in space Loki was talking about. Steve sighs.

"Thor, you swore to watch over your brother. Keep him to your quarters, don't let this happen again. You need a break? You call someone else to babysit. You take him wandering through the ship? You inform me." Steve orders, voice an immoveable object. Tony hadn't yet found an unstoppable force to pit that voice against but he will some day.

"Aye." Thor nods, chastened. And the worried look that he shoots his brother is a kick in the feels. Seriously, Tony breaks out in sympathetic emotions just catching a partial glance at it.

"I'm getting hives." He announces before shooing them out of his work room. He has some work to do if they are going to manage to make it to the next planetary system.

#

"Is it truly necessary to stop in Asgard?" Thor asks, tense. The captain looks at him with sympathy.

"Yes." He answers.

Thor feels the breath rush out of him. It is heady, being so close to what was once home, so close to the place he can never call home again. He aches to stride over familiar streets, to duck into taverns where everyone knew him by name and, most of all, to see those he sorely misses.

"We could not wait and visit one of the outer planets instead?" He presses. Asgard is the last place he should take Loki, the absolute _last_.

"I'm sorry Thor." And the captain is, which Thor can appreciate some other time. "But after Loki's stunt with the engine room we are running on the dying breath of a wish and a prayer. We need the resources of a well supplied core planet."

Thor nods, reluctantly but he has no other suggestion. He holds his breath as they dock but after an hour passes, then two, he begins to relax.

Too soon. A familiar voice carries over along with Tony's distinctive voice. Thor can hardly believe his ears. Before he even realises he is moving he finds himself wrapped in a hug.

"It is good to see you." His mother says warmly, holding him in her arms. Thor feels like he is all of five again and desperate for her embrace after a day of schooling and play away from her.

"Better, I think, for me to lay eyes on you." He returns, moisture creeping into his eyes.

"Ah, and who says that only one of my sons has a flattering tongue." She smiles and glances round, looking for her second son. Thor tightens his grip on her for a moment before pulling free.

"Loki is this way." He says as Tony disappears, leaving them be.

"You found him?" She asks, her face twisting with a vicious hunger. She is more careworn than he has ever seen her, Loki's absence took its toll on his parents, Thor knew, but until now he hadn't believed the rift was anything to worry about. Now, he wonders. Mother had never approved of Loki being sent away.

"I did." He admits slowly, stalling, reluctant to bring his mother to the shell of what was once his vibrant, clever, irrepressible, little brother.

"Then it was as you feared." She says, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"Worse." Thor breathes. A single tear spills down Frigga's cheek, the crystalline droplet falling from her face before she recovers her composure, becoming the queen Asgard knows her as.

"Would that we had listened to you." Frigga mourns. "Take me to him." She orders, running a hand over her face and it is as if the tears never happened. Like Loki, his mother has ever talent for deception.

"Do not startle him." Thor warns. He is loath to think that Loki might harm her, but Thor has learnt that unexpected hugs result in knives to the gut. She looks at him and Thor leads her through the ship.

It must appear a poor sight to her, so very different to the clean kept palace and gleaming cobble stones. Mean and meagre, Thor sees through new eyes. Dusty and so very small.

"I'm glad you came upon a ship like this." Frigga says. Thor looks at her for any sign of sarcasm but she looks approving. "Darling, look around. Everything is worn through _care_. This ship is loved."

Thor smiles. Trust his mother to see what is not at first evident. He knows Odin would disapprove of the place, knows Loki would turn his nose up at it were himself. But Thor and Frigga take greater pride in the feel of a place than how clean or rich the dwelling.

They find Loki in the kitchen (Thor is initially pleased to see he won't have to traverse the vents in search). He is methodically pulling apart packets of tea, piles of dried leaves on the table.

"Loki." Thor says quietly, letting him know of their presence. While Loki has better ears than a cat at times sometimes he disappears so far into his head that an explosion would not be noticed. Loki opens another sachet of tea. Thor leans over and gently takes the tea bag before clasping Loki's hands within his own. They are so cold, he notes, he rubs them to encourage circulation. Loki stares at the tea.

"I have to check." He says earnestly, looking at Thor with wide, green eyes.

"Check for what?" Thor asks, hoping for once to get a response that makes sense to him.

"I have to check." Loki repeats. "Look, the leaves are dried, are smoked, are cooked. All leaves are brown, so where is the difference?"

"The difference between flavours?" Thor hazards. "That is in the type of leaf used or the preparation." He explains simply. Loki shoots him a look that is more familiar to Thor than his reflection, the look that says 'were you born that brainless, or are you actually trying'.

"That packets are the same but the contents are different. Different weight, different volume. Ratio to water. Still tea though, no matter what you do to it, still tea."

Thor sighs and lets go of his brother's hands to find a brush to clear up the mess of tea leaves. The press of something cool to his hand halts him. It is not the knife, but the look in Loki's eyes that has him ready like a hound at the hunt.

"I need to see." Loki says, digging the point of the blade into the fleshy part of Thor's hand. It doesn't break skin, it is simply a warning. Thor wonders where Loki keeps finding these knives after Thor keeps confiscating them.

"Alright." Thor knows now to pick his battles. It took him a while (and a fair few conversations with the rest of the crew) but he learnt. Loki would have been proud. Well, superciliously proud, which was the only pride Loki knew. Thor could imagine the raised eyebrow and the dry 'Well, it was high time _something_ stuck'.

He takes away the rest of the unopened tea bags so they can't be wasted. No one will be pleased to return and find that all the tea has mysteriously gone.

"We have a visitor, a guest." Thor says, attempting to bring Loki's attention to the present. Their mother, who has been waiting patiently watching their interaction, steps forward. Loki tracks the movement and lifts his head warily.

"Loki?" She asks softly, reaching out. Thor nearly steps between them but she doesn't touch Loki, she just holds out her hand, waiting. Loki looks at her from head to toe, eyeing the hand with an unreadable expression.

"Frigga. Queen. Serenity in mortal form. Caged. Trapped. Rip the shackles free." Loki murmurs in a blank, void tone of voice. Frigga pales but her hand does not falter. Loki slowly, warily, reaches out and places the empty packet of tea into her hand.

"Empty now, all gone. Not quite what you were expecting, mother." Loki smiles. His tone is cutting, in that quiet, oddly gentle way he has. Disembowelling you with a smile and a gentle caress, Sif had once said.

"Not quite what I expected, no." Frigga agrees. "But not quite empty either." She shakes the packet and a single, loose leaf, shakes free, withered and curled in on itself. Loki closes his eyes.

Their mother has a fearsome sleight of hand. Loki learned from the best.

"Wishful thinking will get you nowhere. It is a fool's errand." Loki says, resigned. Frigga smiles, one of the few that Thor does not know if Loki stole from her or she stole from Loki.

"Maybe. But what perilous journey isn't a fool's errand, unless they happen to succeed?" She asks lightly, taking the seat next to Loki. "Besides, the scenery alone is worth it." She raises a hand and brings it to cup Loki's cheek. Thor looks away as Loki turns into the caress, this is not meant for his eyes, for anyone's eyes.


End file.
